


Temptation and Sin in Aziraphale's Nice Gentleman's Club

by elwinglyre



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel/Demon Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Spanking, Unspoken Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-22 23:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinglyre/pseuds/elwinglyre
Summary: Prompt: Aziraphale's Nice Gentleman's Club full of gavotte and gay assignations would be perfect for some er. Wiles. And with Crowley asleep, well, Aziraphale's rather bound by their Arrangement to take care of that sort of thing.So I want Aziraphale doing some tempting (really it's for Crowley's benefit! not at all because there are scrumptious men) and enjoying it.Written for Good Omens kink post #1 unbeta'd





	1. Chapter 1

Most men went to a gentleman's club to be naughty. This was the singular reason why Aziraphale was determined there should be a place that was nice.

Which didn't mean a few naughty things might happen at Aziraphale's Nice Gentleman's Club. One must have temptation to deny oneself temptation, and one must have sin to exorcise one's self from sin.

Or that was Aziraphale's firm belief.

Today, he planned to exorcise himself of temptation and sin. _Afterward_. First he'd bathe in them, submerge himself in them. Yes, but only after he thoroughly schooled himself in them.

It was so simple. The object of his unhealthy obsession slept upstairs right now in his very establishment. _The demon_. The one the angel has coveted since he'd tempted Eve with the apple. Oh, if Crowley only knew that the one who was most tempted that day was the angel, for from that very moment he wanted the demon.

It was after two in the morning. The club was perfectly still—the billiard tables silent, bar unattended, parlors abandoned. While the memories of the musicians' tunes still filled the great room, the players had long gone home and most of the members as well. Only a few regulars remained and the club was silent except for housekeepers picking up after a day's entertainment and relaxation.

He climbed the double staircase to the private end of this club where his friend, the demon Crowley slumbered.

The angel ran his hand on the lush Baroque inspired railingas he ascended the winding stairs. Aw, yes. His heart beat like a big-bass drum, his breath fell into the same pounding rhythm: rapid and steady. He could even say there was a heat behind it all.

And greed.

After so many centuries, greed to have him. He denied himself so long. But in this place, he no longer had to withhold his lust. 

He walked with purpose down the long hallway. His own room was at the very end. Crowley was in the room adjoining his. He could steal in through the shared door and take what he wanted like a thief.

Or, he could open the hallway door and simply take what was already his. He opened the door.

Crowley's garish red velvet coat rested on the chair next near the fireplace where he'd removed it along with his shoes and socks. In an outlandish white lace shirt and fitted black trousers, Crowley lay on the bed snoring softly after a long night of too much wine and song.

The fire flickered in the room, his features reflected the complexity of the demon: purity mingled with enumerable transgression.

He was dreaming. Mumbling something. He turned toward Aziraphale as he slept. He almost looked innocent.

Aziraphale's heart leapt as he demon's eyes moved beneath his lids. If one was going to sin, one must sin big, he thought. He intended to do so this very night.

He removed his bow tie, his coat, his weskit, his shirt. He unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down and left everything in a pile on the floor near the end of the bed.

He slid silently next to Crowley.

It was the Arrangement they'd made: pretend and pretend again.

Crowley had keen senses. His eyes flew open, and Aziraphale clamped his hand over the demon's mouth to stop him from calling out.

Aziraphale's other hand got to work. His fingers weren't near as dexterous as the demon's and the buttons were a task.

His eyes golden like the flames in the fireplace, gave neither consent nor objection.

Next he opened his trousers. Crowley helped him slide them down his hips. Of course, the wicked, wicked the demon had no pants on beneath his trousers. Aziraphale slowly removed his hand from Crowley's mouth and kissed the corner of his lips.

"Forgive me for interrupting your rest," Aziraphale whispered.

In a heartbeat, Aziraphale was on top him.

"You're forgiven. I'll always forgive you this," Crowley said.

How Aziraphale loved the game: how Crowley hissed in his ear and writhed underneath of him like the snake he once was. Didn't he deserve some sort of punishment for being this much of a temptation?

"Should I spank you or suck you off, my dear?"

"Why can't you do both?"

Aziraphale sat up and pulled an eager Crowley over his lap.

"How many wacks do you deserve? I shall enumerate your sins committed against metonight and seal each one with my open palm to your perfect bum."

With a sharp crack, Aziraphale landed the first just as he'd promised. Crowley shuddered afterward. The angel was rather pleased with the loverly red hand-print that remained.

"That was for eyeing Lord Battersea's arse when he was playing billiards."

Another loud crack on the other arse cheek. Aziraphale smiled at the matching set of palm prints.

"That was for telling the marquis that you wanted to royally fuck him."

He landed the third and hardest swat, flat-handed in the middle, hitting both round globes. The demon groaned.

"And that was for even thinking that you can fuck anyone but me!" Aziraphale paused. "Is that enough, or do you think you need one more?"

The demon hesitated. "One more, please. I was very naughty."

"One more it is...I know you must have done something else. Let me think...oh, yes."

He smacked him once again, this time, aiming for his pucker.

"Finally, that was for taking that last slice of chocolate cake after dinner tonight. I'm still uncertain if I'll forgive you that one."

Aziraphale admired his handiwork, then rolled a flushed demon over on to his back. His cock jutted proudly.

"Your turn to have your sins cleansed," Crowley chuckled, pointing at his leaking cock. "You may begin. Wrap your angel lips around it."


	2. Chapter 2

But Aziraphale knew this wasn't cleansing his sins: He was giving into them. It was the most perfect sin for all possible sins he could ever commit (at least so he thought).

Aziraphale bowed down between the demon's lean thighs and said a prayer before taking Crowley's long, firm length between his lips for the expressed purpose of extracting his demon seed. 

It was bliss to Aziraphale to have his throat filled with Crowley's cock. He almost loved having his blonde curls tugged by Crowley as much. But most of all it was the way Crowley spoke to him. Even now he whispered words he'd never say any other time.

"You are my angel," Crowley crooned into his ear. "Only mine." 

_What was he doing? He could stop this at any time,_ Aziraphale told himself. But he wouldn't. When he opened this gentleman's club, the purpose behind it wasn't what he had told Gabriel. _No, he did it so that Crowley would come here, so that Crowley would be in this bed, with him._ Since this began between them, this intimacy, he'd faced his own so-called demons. In the end, there would only ever be one: Crowley, the demon of his dreams. 

"That's it," Crowley moaned. "Your lips are perfection."

Aziraphale let them glide up and down, devoured him. He longed for the taste and missed it when his friend was away. Humans were such poor substitutes. 

"Oh, deeper...deeper. So soft, so sweet."

 _An angel love a demon?_ Aziraphale was certain that what he felt was as forbidden as this act. _What would Gabriel do if he found out?_ Aziraphale was far less afraid of what Gabriel would say. But he could do the unthinkable: make him leave Earth and leave Crowley.

He savored each lick, each thrust into his mouth, he relished it. He wanted him to fill his mouth, he wanted to swallow Crowley's come down until there was no more. 

"Ohh, Aziraphale! Let me know if I'm going too deep."

 _His name._ _The way he even spoke it._ Aziraphale often told himself that to want something this much was not healthy, yet he couldn't keep himself from wanting it. It was his punishment and his reward.

He let his own cock rub mercilessly against Crowley's thigh, denying himself the release he wanted. The demon gasped and moaned, his shaft growing harder and harder as he came closer and closer. The angel took a firm hold at the base of the shaft. There was nothing like the feel of Crowley's cock in his hand as he squeezed and stroked in time with bobbing his mouth up and down. Crowley gasped and gulped for air. 

_Why did he deny each other his love?_ To do so was like being in purgatory. _Why must he never say the word? Because he feared he'd actually would be thrown into Hell or that he feared Crowley didn't love him in return?_

"That's it. Take me, make me yours," Crowley said, his hand tenderly caressing the angel's brow.

The way Crowley touched him, the words he said. Maybe they weren't of love, but there was love within them. 

Crowley sobbed out as he came. Aziraphale's heart filled with joy to have this fallen angel, this beautiful demon, let go for him so completely. In this room, Crowley dropped all his swagger, all his bravado. _Was this proof that he did care deeply?_ In this room, Crowley could let Aziraphale see him as he was. Moments such as this made Aziraphale think he could tell Crowley what was truly in his heart and maybe their world wouldn't crumble. 

_Could he have all he wanted and wished for?_

"Now, my angel, I will fuck you."

"Please," Aziraphale answered. "Oh, please." He spread himself out on his back and let the demon swing his legs over him. Crowley grasped the angels hands in his and pushed them into the mattress above Aziraphale's head. It was a firm, loving grip as Crowley let his thumbs caress the angel's knuckles. 

"What would you want, my angel? What pleasures have you denied yourself that I may fulfill?" 

As he blushed, Aziraphale's gaze flickered to the fireplace. 

"You are beautiful beneath me. You enjoy hearing me tell you how creamy your skin is and how your lips are like rose petals? Words. Merely words. But while words may be sweet to you, gestures are better. I know what you like even more," Crowley said. He bent down, his weight on top of the angel's. 

With a sigh, Aziraphale turned his head. Face to face, lips to lips, Crowley kissed him. Yes, the demon knew exactly what Aziraphale loved most: the demon's mouth coaxing his open. He'd memorized Crowley's kiss: the texture, the shape, the taste.

Tiny squeaks and breathy moans of surrender escaped from the back of the angel's throat as Crowley flicked his tongue. 

Crowley pressed closer. When he spread his thighs, he pushed the angel's wider. His hands clenched Crowley's tighter. 

"Open for me," Crowley demanded. Obdiently, the angel tipped his hips up. 

He opened, he gladly opened. Quivers of unbridled ecstasy wracked the angel as Crowley's cock, always hard and ready to fuck him, pushed inside. Aziraphale watched amazed to witness the pride and longing on demon's face as he entered him.

Crowley began his gentle rocking, a slow, steady tempo, for the demon loved to make their joining last. The angel felt his toes curl in time to the motion as Crowley fucked him. 

He plundered the angel's mouth again and again as he increased his rhythmic thrusting by painfully slow increments. The angel's body yielded to it all.

"I still feel the sting of your hand on my arse," the demon said with a wicked grin. "I intend to return that pleasure. You'll feel my cock inside you long after we're done."

Crowley finally released one of the angel's hands so that he could stroke the angel's cock.

It felt like eternity to Aziraphale as he kept the angel on the edge. Slowly, slowly the demon increased his thrusts until at last the tempo moved to allegro. 

"Please," Aziraphale begged. "Please." 

Crowley laughed and pumped into him in staccato.

The ending came hotter than flame. Aziraphale wanted this. He spilled over the demon's hand and sobbed tears of joy. 

The demon came again, filling him. He collapsed on top, breathing hard. He softly kissed the angel's lips and eyelids. Before he released the angel's hand, he gave them a squeeze.

He rolled off, still holding the angel close. 

Aziraphale looked into the face he loved for so long. _Why couldn't he say it? What sin was there in loving, even if he loved a demon?_

Very slowly, he turned to face Crowley. 

"You said once that no one upstairs or down really notice what we do here on Earth, only..."

"They don't. If they did, do you think they would let us continue doing this?"

"This?"

"Eating lunch together. Strolling in parks. Fratrenizing. Fucking."

Aziraphale bit his lip, willing himself to get the nerve.

"You're not going to," Crowley said. "No. Don't say it."

"Why not?" Aziraphale sat up, looking down at Crowley. Inside he was panicking, but he had to take this chance. "What will happen if I do? Tell me you don't feel the same, and I'll never mention it again."

Crowley closed his eyes. "I _don't_ feel the same." 

Aziraphale slumped back down into the bed. _This had to be armageddon! It had happened. He had told Crowley and Crowley didn't love him!_ He covered his face with his hands and began to shake. A long, sorrowful sob escaped from somewhere inside him. He felt empty: _He didn't feel his heart._ He was certain Crowley had ripped open his chest with his words. _And his lungs?_ They were gone as well. _He could no longer breathe. His voice had left him._ Not one word could he form on his lips. 

_What had just happened?_ He was so, so certain that Crowley loved him in return. 

With a gasp, Crowley brushed his hands across the angel and rested them above his empty chest. It was as if the gesture returned his heart to him, but it hurt, oh how it hurt. Aziraphale's heart ached as Crowley's fingers left his heart and gently pulled the angel's hands from his face and brushed the tears from his cheeks. 

"Oh, Aziraphale, don't cry. You misunderstood. What I feel for you couldn't possibly be the same. I'm a demon. You are an angel."

"So you _do_ love me?" 

"This is impossible. We are impossible. You expect too much of me. I can't be good; I can't be pure."

"If I wanted those things, I wouldn't be here."

Crowley laughed. "True."

"We're together. There's no one in this universe who knows me as you do, and there's no one who knows you as I do."

"If I can love, I love you."

Aziraphale wiped the rest of the tears from his face. "Someday others will know, until then, I love you, my dear boy."


End file.
